


The Unholy Book of Assassins Creed Oneshots

by TheRo0ks



Series: The Unholy Book of Assassins Creed Oneshots [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRo0ks/pseuds/TheRo0ks
Summary: A book of smutty Assassins Creed oneshots. Please don't read if you're under 18. Also, please pray for me :)
Relationships: Alexios (Assassin's Creed)/Reader, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad/Reader, Arno Dorian/Reader, Desmond Miles/Reader, Edward Kenway/Reader, Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Reader, Haytham Kenway/Reader, Jacob Frye/Reader, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader, Shay Cormac/Reader
Series: The Unholy Book of Assassins Creed Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051898
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. Carnations and Constellations <Deimos! Alexios>

A gift for the Deimos. It was an honor, and the gods would smile upon her. The truth was she was expendable, and they were terrified of the monster they created. 

Humans were cruel creatures, and the cult of Kosmos were full of twisted individuals. He became what he had to to survive. 

"You are to do his bidding." Those were the last words her father spoke to her. 

Their control over his rage was slipping. The cultists hoped he would channel his rage onto her, in whatever way he deemed fit. 

She was instructed to kneel by a low chair. By the weapon racks surrounding it, she assumed this is where he stripped his armor. "You will not look at him until he deems it." A cultist ordered.

"Deimos, the cult of Kosmos have blessed you with a gift." 

He studied the woman, taking in her figure, her soft features looked out of place in the dark room. 

Cold steel pressed under her chin. The blade tilted her chin up and she met honey eyes. Eyes that wanted to hold warmth, but churned violently instead. Dark circles ringed his eyes, but he had a face that was more beautiful than Adonis himself. 

"If she isn't to your liking we can find a more suitable offering."

In a flash his blade was pressed against the cultist's neck as he seethed, "what are you still doing here?" 

The man managed to sputter out a cry as Deimos shoved him towards the door. He thudded against the marble floor, and scrambled out of the room. "What do they call you?" 

"Y/N." 

He studied her a moment, "I expected you to say I could call you whatever I liked."

"That is what they told me to say." She confessed. "I haven't any reason to appease them." Her jaw was set, and shoulder's square. 

She had some spirit about her, which he found amusing. "And you are mine to do as I please," he mused sitting in the low chair next to her. Calloused fingers gripped her jaw inspecting her face once more, "Aphrodite has blessed you, and they have given you to me unspoiled?" He questioned, studying her gaze. 

She gave a simple nod, which seemed to appease him. He'd grown up around serpents, and had no patience for liars. 

"Well?" He gestured to his armor as he sat. With nimble fingers she was quick to strip him of his armor.

"Would you like me to polish it too?" She inquired, placing the armor on it's stand. 

She was startled to find calloused fingers lightly gripping her neck. His low voice was the harbinger of death. "Do you think I'm so easily fooled?" 

"Please, just do it." She said laying her hands over his. "If it's not you, it'll be someone else." 

Her words startled him, and his grip loosened. "They'll try to exploit you if you ever came to care for me." His fingers ran down the soft slope of her shoulders as he took her words in. She was a pawn too, but to the cult she was expendable. 

He knew for both of their sake he should end it now. It would be quick, her bones would be easy to break, and her neck would snap like a twig. However, she was so small, so vulnerable that he couldn't entertain the thought of striking her down. 

"Perhaps you are a gift from the gods." He muttered. His fingers catching a bit of silk fabric that hung about her waist. 

The touch was fleeting as he dropped the fabric. Y/N could feel his demeanor shift behind her. "Polish my armor." His voice came out gruff as he stalked out of the room.

She set to work polishing the armor and blade until they both gleamed.

He returned late in the night to find her sound asleep against one of the weapons racks. A sound of surprise escaped his throat when he saw the polished armor.

Her calming presence had confused him, and he'd removed himself from the room to ponder it. However, coming back to her sleeping form had stirred a gentleness within him that left him more confused.

He had concluded that he would use this gift the gods gave him. He had never had the time to explore a woman's touch, perhaps she could melt his cold heart. 

He made his way over to her, in a gentleness that surprised him, and he placed her on the soft bed. He shrugged on an azure linen chiton before sitting on the edge of the bed. She’d curled into herself, and she looked tiny. Like the carnation petals that littered Zeus’ temple floor. The jewel studded hair pins glittered in the moonlight, and Deimos plucked them from her hair. Ten pins littered the small table when he was finished. 

He finally settled in behind her. She looked peaceful as she softly stirred beside him. Her eyes fluttered open. He watched her process reality. His hand shot out to grip her bicep before she could sit up. Again he was reminded of her size in his calloused palms. “Stay.” His deep voice melted in her ears. She settled back down into the warmth of his body.

The bed was cold when she awoke the next morning. His armor gone, and a platter of fruit, cheese and bread were laid out on the table next to her. She ran her fingers through her hair as her gaze rested on the pile of hair pins. He’d taken the time to remove each one, and he even shared his bed. 

The man wasn’t a monster, so why did everyone fear him? Her mind replayed the moment he’d thrown the Cultist across the room. Could that classify him as a monster? If she had the power to show the Cult of Kosmos that kind of wrath she wouldn’t hold back either.

The gilded doors creaked open, and several cultists walked in. Y/N’s shoulder tensed at the sight. The cultists appeared to be surprised she was unharmed. The leader of the group spoke, “you will accompany Deimos to the feast tonight.” The cultists took a step closer, Y/N could feel the cultists’ breath fanning her neck. “If he acts out, you will be the first to feel our wrath.” 

She recognized that voice. It was amusing seeing her father shocked she was still breathing, and here he was threatening her with violence. He snapped his fingers and a maid quickly rushed forward. A pile of white fabric laid across her arms. “They will get you ready.” 

The cult turned to leave, as Deimos entered the room. The cultists scurried fast out of the room to avoid his fury. He crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed her chin. His grip was firm, but slightly tender as his eyes flickered over her body checking for any harm that could have befallen her. “What did they want?” His voice was deep, and demanding. 

The maids cowered at his presence, “they wanted me to ensure you would not act out tonight.” 

“Or what?” His words came out as a feral growl as he took a step closer. His breastplate felt warm against her skin. 

“They will punish me.” Her voice was soft, but her words hung heavily in the air. Anger radiated off his body. He turned to the weapons rack, and in the blink of an eye he sent a bronze shield through the rack. Steel clattered on the marble floor, and the maids whimpers echoed off the walls. Y/N spared them a glance, and could see the women shaking. Tentatively she reached out. His back went ridged when her hand met his arm. “Don’t worry about me.” She said gently, “they fear you too much to take me away.” 

“If they lay a hand on you.” He paused, inhaling deeply.

“I know.” She said softly, as he brushed his fingers against her cheek. Her gentleness was something that had been lacking in his life. The thought of anyone laying a hand on such a kind heart had him seeing red.

She pressed a soft kiss to his palm before turning to the maids. The three women scurried to their feet, head down so as not to catch Deimos’ eye.

The ladies unclasped the brooches letting the silk fabric pool at her feet. Deimos had taken a seat to sharpen his blade. His eyes flickered up at the rustling of fabric. Soft curves hypnotized him. They were a stark contrast from the hard worked muscles of his body. It would be easy to dismiss the maids, he longed to feel the softness of her breast, and the roundness of her ass. Before his mind could go much further white silk was fastened into place. 

The dress left little to the imagination. It was another way for the Cult to show their control. What was supposed to be his, wasn’t really his, and they made sure it was known to him. He watched them pin her hair up in an elaborate style, applying perfume.

The ladies left as quickly as they came, and Deimos took her in. She looked like a flower to him, and she seemed out of place in the dark room. The only light in his dark and twisted life. She took a seat on the bed and she gripped the blankets tightly. Something tugged at his heart, it was a new feeling for the warrior. She looked terrified, she’d managed to hide it well so far. He did not think the fear was directed at him. Most quaked in his wake, but she hasn’t shown him an ounce of fear. 

“I will not let any harm befall you.” 

His voice surprised her, and she let go of the linen blankets. “I’m sorry.” The words came out as a whisper, and she’d never felt so small. 

Deimos took a seat next to her. He’d never learned how to comfort himself let alone another person. He longed to take her in his arms, but was unsure of his own touch. 

Teary eyes took him in: his muscles tense, and jaw clenched. The warrior was trying to console her, even if that meant sitting next to her awkwardly. “You’re very kind.” 

A look of surprise crossed his features. He looked down into her earnest (e/c) eyes. “No one has ever used that word to describe me.” 

She brought her hand up to brush against his beard. A very tender gesture, and Deimos felt like putty in her hands. He brushed his nose against her’s before pressing his lips to her’s. She melted into his touch. His lips were rough, but his touch was gentle. Fleeting kisses peppered her jaw and neck, as calloused fingers traced her curves. He fumbled with the brooch when the doors slammed open. 

Deimos was already at the man’s throat before Y/N could blink. “The cult is ready for you.” The man gasped. Deimos released the man, “come.” 

Y/N scurried along behind him. Her legs working overtime to keep up with his powerful strides. A group of horses were waiting outside of the fortress entrance. A sleek black stallion looked decorated for war. Y/N could only assume the stallion was for Deimos. The cultists ushered her to the back of the line. They seated her on a bay horse. A mercenary was ponying her horse. Apparently the cult didn’t trust her to not try and escape. 

The banquet was being held at a nobleman’s house. When she dismounted, she could see the gleam of Deimos helmet disappear behind the house. The mercenary that was ponying her to the party guided her through the doors with a push of his hand. She found the mercenary was always in eyesight wherever she wandered. The wine table took too long for her to find. Her eyes flickered across the various faces in the room. She was startled to find her mother amongst some of the ladies. When she caught her eyes, her mother sneered, and turned her back. The group of women laughed, all throwing her judgemental looks. 

She wrapped her arm around herself, hoping the floor would swallow her up. She took a deep pull from her goblet. Damaged goods, that’s what she was to her family. They tossed her to the wolves, and had the audacity to mock her. Most people avoided her, but she didn’t miss the hushed whispers that passed around the room. Words like whore and slut were directed at her.

When she finally found a secluded hallway, she pressed herself against the wall. The cold marble felt good against her hot skin. The past couple days had been a whirlwind. The only constant in her life was Deimos. Everyone called him the monster, but he was the only one who had shown her a sliver of kindness. 

A crashing noise sent her back into the banquet hall. The marble railing gave her a perfect view of the scene below. One of the large cypress tables was tipped on its side. Wine and oil mixed on the mosaic floor. A middle aged man cowered at the sight of Deimos. His golden blade glinted. Deimos looked like a god in the way his armor glowed in the candlelight. He cut an imposing figure as he strolled around the room. People cowered and stared in awe at the sight of the mighty Deimos. All wondered what depths of Hades had spit him out, his voice held a hint of boredom. The way a cat lazily plays with a mouse before it devours it. “Did you think you would escape me?” Deimos drawled on, his eyes circulating the room. 

The man pleaded some incoherent words. He even resorted to pleading on hands and knees. “I grow tired of this game.” Deimos stated, before plunging the blade through the man's throat. Y/N gaped at the sight. Never had she seen such violence. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt hands on her arms. She glanced up to see the mercenary ushering her forward. 

The wine and oil splashed across her dress as she made her way to Deimos. He stretched his hand out for her to take. Hands were stained red, and Y/N was unsure if it was the wine or the man’s blood. Her eyes flickered down to the swirling of crimson and berry. Steeling herself she took his hand, showing weakness would give the cult satisfaction. Deimos led her through the crowd. The whispers about her had stopped, she had no doubt they were terrified of Deimos hearing their poisoned words.

The black stallion was waiting at the entrance. Deimos lifted her onto the steed, before mounting. She wrapped her arms around him as nudged the horse forward. 

The sun fading painted the sky in brilliant colors of pinks and purples. It was the first time they’d been truly alone. No procession in tow, no walls full of vipers, just the music of the cicadas and the salty breeze that blew in from the sea. The stallion slowed its pace to a walk, as Demios navigated the horse down a steep slope. Deimos dismounted, before assisting her down. 

Never had she been somewhere so beautiful. A small waterfall cascaded down the cliff side into a small pool. Deimos studied her expressions, he was glad she seemed to find beauty in this place. He never intended for her to see the monster he’d become. With the Cult of Kosmos it was unavoidable. Her dress was stained with the other man’s blood. He stripped his armor until he was in only his chiton. He turned to her to see her watching him. He laid out a soft blanket, and pulled out a clean dress. He took great care in unpinning her hair, to let it fall down her back. Calloused fingers unclasped the brooches, letting the soiled dress fall to the ground. 

She was starkly aware of her own nakedness, as Deimos brushed her hair to the side to kiss her neck. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her neck. She furrowed her brow at his guilt, but he’d already swept her into his arms before she could respond. He sat her on a rock, and began to wash the blood from her skin. Honey eyes focused on his task, and Y/N assumed this was his way of atoning for what he had done. Deimos’s hands felt good against her skin. The way his large hands massaged her calves as he scrubbed back and forth until the water ran clear. She wanted to know how his hands would feel everywhere. 

When he finished his administrations, he sat her on the soft blanket. Taking great care to keep her warm. With a jolt of courage she softly stroked his beard. His eyes flickered up, confusion evident on his face. Perhaps he expected her to fear him like everyone else. Instead she pressed her lips firmly against his. He was quick to return the kiss. His kisses were rough, but she could feel the longing in them. How long had he gone without connecting with another soul? If Y/N had to guess, she was the first one to willingly touch him. 

Soon she found him on top of her. One palm cradling her neck as he peppered kisses along her jaw, while the other balanced him above her. His whiskers brought a pleasant burn against her skin, that his lips soothed as they passed over her skin. The gentle moans that escaped her lips only encouraged him further. 

The sight of her breasts caused a sharp inhale in the warrior. The soft shape was a stark contrast to his battle hardened body. He peppered kisses along her breasts before thumbing each nipple. The weight of her breasts felt full in his hands. He captured one in his mouth as he rolled the other with his thumb. Small hands tugged at his hair, as soft whimpers escaped her lips. Deimos couldn’t decide if he liked the feel of her breasts more, or if it was the sinful noises his touch solicited from her lips. 

His hand cupped her sex as he captured her lips with his once more. He kissed down her body before settling in between her thighs. Y/N sat up on her elbows in anticipation feeling his breath against her sex. Dark eyes flickered up at her lighting a fire in her core. His arms tightened around her thighs as he lapped at her clit. Fingers gripped his hair, and her back arched on its own accord. 

Lustful eyes glanced up at her to see her enraptured in ecstasy. Deimos added his fingers, slowly stretching her to accommodate him. The added pleasure soon had her seeing stars, and that coil soon became so tight it finally released as her orgasm washed through her.

He climbed up her body giving her a deep kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, it was cool and fresh. Like drinking from a cold mountain spring.

“I want to make you feel good too.” Her voice was soft as she gazed up at him with blissful eyes. This pulled a small smile from his lips. Her sweetness was contagious, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“Climb on top.” He said softly, ridding himself of his remaining clothes. Soon she was straddling him. “You can go as slow, or as fast as you need.” 

The velvety skin was soft in her hand. She gave him a few strokes, which solicited a low groan from him. He gripped her thighs at the sensation. She slowly sank down on him. The pain she was feeling slowly turning into a sweet burn. When she was fully seated she gave herself a moment to adjust. Deimos gripped her hips, he knew she’d probably bruise there, but he wasn’t expecting her to feel this fucking tight. When she started moving again Deimos found himself in pure bliss. He rub her clit encouragingly, which solicited soft moans from her. When he couldn’t take it anymore he flipped the two over. Y/N looked surprised at his strength, he hadn’t even bothered to pull out. “Touch yourself.” He commanded as he set a brutal pace. She went to work on her clit, and soon she was so close. She would cum if he kept hitting that spot. “Cum for me.” Deimos demanded, and she found herself falling over the edge. Deimos wasn’t far behind, he ceased when he became too sensitive. He waited to catch his breath before finally pulling out. She curled into his side, and he brushed back her hair. She looked stunning in the moonlight, her soft curves made her look like Aphrodite. 

After cleaning them both up he set to work making a fire. He’d brought extra blankets. He hadn't planned on returning to the fortress until morning. 

They gazed up at the stars, and she pointed out several constellations to him. Her knowledge of the stars surprised him. “Why study the stars?” He inquired.

Her brow furrowed, and a peaceful silence settled in the air. “They’ve always seemed so free.” Her voice grew quiet, “people find beauty in what they are. They don’t have to be anything that they aren’t.” She sighed, “I suppose I envy that kind of love.” 

Deimos studied her hard, “who taught you to be so small?” 

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, “my family I suppose. Though I don’t think I can call them that now.” She added. 

“I heard what they said tonight.” Deimos said quietly. “I’m sorry. They only say it because of me.”

Y/N glanced over at him, his eyes looked sad. He’d been called a monster for so long, he actually believed it. “It doesn’t matter what they say.” She reached out to stroke his beard. “You’re a star, and they are nothing.”


	2. Train Cars & Letters (Part 2 of A Rose From Starrick's Garden)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a request for some hot and heavy Jacob. Your author is going to go take a cold shower after writing this. I also turned this into a part 2 of A Rose From Starrick’s Garden since you all seemed to like it so much! Possible part 3?

Thick leather boots kicked the train car door open as he lowered her feet to the floor. He took care to lock each door, throwing her a cocky grin, “I don’t want to be interrupted.” 

He replaced his damp coat with a soft blanket, “I’ll make a fire love.” He said, placing a soft kiss on her lips. He placed his jacket on a hook, and got to work with kindling and a piece of flint he carried around. (E/c) eyes watched his muscles strain against the white button down he wore. The blanket he gave her smelled of gunpowder, leather and something distinctly Jacob. 

He brushed back a lock of hair, his hat somewhere deep in the Thames by now. He slowly added each log to the fire taking great care in his task.

Her shift was still soaked, the damp London air did nothing to dry it. “You still wearing that?” Jacob teased as he unbuttoned his vest. His wet clothes clung to his skin as he peeled the layers away. The train car windows fogged up as steam rose off his body. The Englishman was a furnace, and Y/N realized she couldn’t feel her toes. 

“And leave myself at the mercy of the infamous Gang Leader and Master Assassin Jacob Frye?” She teased back, reaching for the drawstring of her shift. She made quick work of pulling it over her head. Goosebumps ran across her skin and she quickly pulled the blanket closer.

His deep chuckle sent shivers down her spine. Jacob stood in front of her in only his trousers. Her eyes widened as she followed the lines of his body down to the little trail of hair that disappeared into his trousers. “I fear I’m the one who may be at your mercy.” 

A blush bloomed at her cheeks at having been caught staring. “Ah, there is my innocent kitten.” A pang shot straight to her core at the nickname. “Let me get you warm.” Jacob tugged at the blanket, waiting for her approval. She let the blanket fall from her shoulders, as he picked her up. The heat of his chest was a warm welcome to her icy skin. “You’re freezing.” Jacob commented rubbing her limbs with his palms to create heat. Her skin felt like silk against hit calloused hands. 

His hazel eyes flickered down for a quick peek. Her curves had enraptured him, and his eyes slowly drank her in. (E/c) eyes followed his gaze. Her instinct to cover her nakedness was tampered by the heady look in his eyes. Never had a man looked at her in such a state; (skin tone) skin glowing in the firelight, with her curves on display. 

Jacob Frye knew how to steal a woman’s heart. The charms he was gifted with, spared no one. He was the kind of man who had a shelf full of hearts, some intentional and some coincidental. It was in his nature, and he always kept his heart in a cage. Roth had been the only one to unlock it, and had returned it in shambles. 

The (e/c) eyes that flickered up at him expected nothing. Never in his life had he experienced such recklessness. To look at someone without expectations was unconditional. Something so rare, especially to come from someone so broken. He hadn’t thought of what this would lead to. Jacob seldom thought things through to completion. He just saw how decadent she looked in that dress, and how his heart felt when Crawford held her tight. 

The look she had given the Templar was different than the one she had given him. She had wanted that arrogant man to take control, but she wanted Jacob to completely ruin her. She wanted Jacob to fill up every inch of her, so that she could never touch another man without thoughts of him. 

He’d been with other people, but none ever wanted to take so much from him; and he wanted to give her every piece of him. He didn’t have to worry about falling alone, she’d already taken the leap whether he’d follow her or not. He was reckless with life, and she with love. Two sides of the same coin, and yet he was hesitant. 

Doubt crept into his mind. Doubts he always plastered over with a smirk and a cocky attitude. Staring into her eyes he realized he had never fooled her, she had always seen right through him. She knew what laid behind hazel eyes, but she never said a word. 

The mattress dipped as he sat down on the bed. He kept her in his lap as he kissed down her neck. Hands gripping her through the blanket. His whiskers scraped against her neck taking great care to place love bites in areas that solicited moans. He tugged at the blanket asking for silent permission. 

Y/N pulled the thin fabric from her body discarding it somewhere on the floor. Calloused fingertips explored her skin leaving goosebumps in its place. The soft flesh of her chest swayed with every little movement, and Jacob was mesmerized at the sight. He took great care rolling each nipple with his thumb. The sinful sounds that escaped her lips sent him into a frenzy. Soon nothing seemed enough. He needed to feel her warmth. His fingers trailed down to her stomach. Dipping his fingers in her pussy he let out a strained groan, “bloody hell you’re wet.”

“Fuck Jacob.” Her voice came out on a sharp exhale, as his fingers rubbed circles on her clit. By her squirms it wasn’t enough, and he was more than happy to speed things up. Her sex was warm, and her nails gripped his forearm pushing his fingers further into her. Hips bucked into his fingers as his hand trailed up her neck. His palm lightly gripped her neck, “is this okay?” He asked, squeezing her neck once indicating his plans. “Yes, please.” The plea escaped her lips as her nails dug into his hip. 

His hand tightened around her throat, her hand gripped his forearm a clear indication she had no desire for him to stop anytime soon. “You like that you little minx?” He purred in her ear as his two fingers rubbed against her g-spot, while his palm slid against her clit. “You’re going to leave a mess.” 

Jacob bit his lip when she clamped down on his fingers. It was clear his words had sent her over the edge, and he was trying not to fall as well. He distracted himself with cooing words, and stroking her hair as she came down from her high. 

“Let me suck your cock.” He didn’t think tonight could get any hotter until that demand escaped her lips. He’d already leaned back on his elbows to watch her pop the button of his pants. She didn’t make a move to pull them down yet. Instead, she placed open mouth kisses down his stomach. He stomach flexed with each nip to his hip bones. “You’re a fucking tease.” He groaned, as she sucked a hickey right above his cock. “Fuck,” he hissed. When she finally pulled at his pants, he toed his boots off and discarded his pants in record time. She settled on her knees between his thighs, giving his velvety head a few strokes. She popped his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue. “Where the fuck did you learn to suck dick?” Jacob groaned, which solicited a hum that vibrated pleasantly against his cock. She took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks, and he found himself involuntarily bucking his hips into her mouth. He brushed her hair back, enamored with the sight of his cock disappearing into her mouth. 

“Fuck I’m close.” He breathed, and she released him with an audible pop. His body shuddered at the sound. He pulled her onto the bed, “hands and knees.” He ordered, he gave her plump ass a smack satisfied with the sound. She’d buried her face in the mattress. “Mmmm, you like it deep?” He asked, running his fingers over her cunt. Satisfied with how wet she was. 

“Jacob would you just fuck me?” 

A chuckle escaped his lips as he ran his cock along her lips, coating it in her juices. “Eager are we? I believe you’re missing a please.” 

“I swear Jacob Frye, if you make me beg for your fucking cock I-“ he cut her off with another smack to her ass. He gripped her soft skin rubbing the sting away. 

“You were saying?” 

“Would you fuck me, please?” 

“I suppose we can work on your manners some other time.” He said before plunging himself as deep as he could go. She gasped at his size. He remained buried in her trying to compose himself. In his impulsiveness, he didn’t think about how tight she actually was. “Fuck you’re tight.” He started a slow pace until he was accustomed to the feel. He wasted no time in setting a brutal pace, snapping his hips to solicit small squeaks from her by how hard he was pushing into her. Movement caught his eye as he gazed down.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself?” Jacob asked, pulling her up, so her back was to his chest. Hazel eyes flickered down to her fingers working her clit. He tightened his hold on her throat, and watched her chest rise with an impending orgasm. The height difference kept him buried deep in her at this angle. With his other hand he rolled her nipple with his thumb. “Is that pretty pussy going to come for me?” His voice was husky, knowing his words would send her over the edge. He buried his face in her neck when she came. The way she gripped him had him cumming close behind. 

He stilled as they caught their breath. He dreaded pulling out too sensitive after his orgasm. When he finally pulled out he solicited a small sound from her. Her body was just as sensitive from their act. After cleaning them both up he nestled in behind her. Her skin was cool and felt good against his hot skin. 

The train car ricketed against the tracks, and the fire crackled. Jacob combed his fingers through her (dark/light) locks. It felt like silk against his hands. “Jacob?” Her soft voice broke the silence.

“Hmmm?” He never faltered in playing with her hair. Mesmerized by her silken locks.

Her tongue darted out, anxious for his response to her next words, “was this a one time thing?” 

Jacob was startled by her question. He’d wanted to be with her so long, and she had no idea how he actually felt. He thought he’d been more than obvious in the way he’d always volunteer to go on missions with her, the way he’d place his jacket on her shoulders when she was cold, and the way he looked at her.

“You don’t know?” 

She gazed up at him with inquiring eyes. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think there is two people more deserving...” 

Those words were familiar, she’d finally received an answer to her question she’d forgotten to even ask. “The two people you were referring to...it was us, wasn’t it?” 

He placed a kiss on the curve of her neck. “I’ve been dropping not so subtle hints for months.” He admitted. “You really are oblivious.”

“I never thought you’d actually like me.” She admitted.

He scoffed, “it’s impossible to not fall in love with you.” His tone grew serious, “you’re like a storm. You either sit and admire it, or you run madly in it, and I guess I got tired of sitting.”

He’d laid his heart out plainly for her. It was more than just a whim for him. Y/N hadn’t expected the evening to transpire the way it had. She expected to be warming the Templar Grandmaster’s bed, not Jacob’s. A relationship could complicate so many things, but she realized that none of the mattered. Her heart already knew the answer, even if mind had to play catch up. “Then you’ll run in it with me?” 

“Always.”

*  
**  
*  
The next morning Y/N woke to the pounding on a train car door. “You have exactly five seconds before I pick this lock.” 

“Piss off Evie.” Jacob shot back throwing a pillow at the door. 

The door was instantly flung open. “Evie maybe you should give them some privacy.” Henry’s voice trailed off as she hovered over Jacob. 

“Really? You too Y/N?” Evie tisked, folding her arms across her chest. 

“Look, I’ll get on the research as soon as I get dressed.” Y/N said stifling a yawn. 

Evie threw her robes at Y/N. “Put these on and meet me at the tea shop.” 

“Thank you Evie.” 

Jacob’s hand shot out, “stay love. Research can wait.” 

“You know she’ll just come back right?” 

Jacob groaned, “sod it.” 

*  
**  
*

The tea shop door bell jingled. Evie snapped the book shut, “This came for you.” Gloved hands gave her the crisp envelope. Y/N’s name neatly scrolled across the front. Jacob stared over her shoulder, and Evie craned her neck to take a peak as well. An unbroken red wax seal kept the envelope sealed. “Is that?” Y/N’s voice came out as a whisper.

“Starrick’s seal?” Evie finished for her. 

“This came with it.” Henry added, handing Y/N the blood red rose. It was the sweetest rose she’d ever smelt in her life. Her throat felt thick as she swallowed. 

“Does this mean something?” Jacob pressed, seeing her unease. 

Y/N nodded, her heart pounded as her fingers tore at the seal. The world quit spinning as she unfurled the letter. Her eyes flickered over the perfect penmanship. 

Dear Y/N L/N,

I hope this letter found you swiftly, and you enjoyed my gift. I never got your name last night, but not to fear. I too have people all over the city, and I was able to put a name to such a divine face. 

We never got to finish our dance last night, or play out the evening I had planned. Not to worry, I am working on a plan to rectify the situation. Do not try to flee the city, before the dance is over. Jacob Frye cannot always protect you, and we will meet again so we can finish our dance in peace.

My people looked into your history with the Creed. I believe you can still be set on the right path with a little bit of teaching. You’re a clever woman, and will see reason when it is put in front of you. I look forward to our next meeting. It will be explosive.

Until then my rose,

Crawford Starrick 

Y/N dropped the letter, her feet automatically moving to the door. Faintly she could hear Jacob and Evie behind her. The London air was a cool blast to her face. She ran a hand through her hair at the implication of the letter. Jacob and Evie Frye had put her at the top of Crawford Starrick’s shit list.


End file.
